


In the Mood for Love

by Schweininho



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Artistic Liberties, Fluff, M/M, Self-Indulgent, Short One Shot, There's a living in the material world docu reference there somewhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-02
Updated: 2020-04-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:42:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23446453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schweininho/pseuds/Schweininho
Summary: A confession set in the time they were filming A Hard Day's Night
Relationships: George Harrison/Ringo Starr, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	In the Mood for Love

**Author's Note:**

> "We wanted, it seemed, what we already had, a lover and a friend to create with, side by side. To be loyal, yet be free." Just Kids, Patti Smith

"Cut!" Yells their director, Richard Lester from his seat a few feet away from the raised platform.

"Didn't peg you as the improv kind, George. Good work. Come back in three hours, I think you lads deserve a break" and off goes Richard, his AD following closely behind him. 

John whoops and pulls Paul with him saying something about feeding lines for the next scene, and would Paul want to listen to the new chords that he's been practicing all night. 

George huffs from his side, murmuring something that sounds like "just kiss you fools." Ringo snorts, the words, "They'd already kissed. I saw them." at the tip of his tongue. 

"What?" George asks, patting his pockets for his lighter (which he was asked to leave behind prior to their scene in this set), and in his hand another contraband, his beloved ciggie. Ringo plucks the ciggie from George's pretty fingers. Ringo casts a quick look around the studio, sighing when the owner isn't among the few staff heading to the tent where their catered food awaits. He shoots the younger man a look, who looks sheepish enough to realize his blunder. Just as quick, the scowl turned into a smirk. "Hey, if you keep doing that I'd be inclined to kiss ye. Looking after me health, what more could a man ask-" 

"Friends care for each other. Curbing your ciggie addiction is one perk" Ringo punctuates his point by tossing the cigarette towards the nearest bin, humming when it lands successfully inside. 

"But I could use a partner." George admits behind him. Ringo blinks, unsure if he's heard right. He didn't think George to be the one to drop things like this so casually. But then again he's asked Pattie to marry him in a bout of endorphin rush, who is he to judge?

Calmly, he turns around to look at George, who looks nothing like the George he's seen grow (forced to grow more like) in the few years they spent together. He's reminded the picture he's taken of George from a camera his mate from Rory Storm stole. A barely there adult clinging to the youth that passed so quick in a foreign land filled with all things imaginable that they shouldn't be witnessing, and yet there's defiance in George's gaze, in the tightness of his jaw, still set on reaching his goals. He gets the same feeling then, the urge to protect, but George is capable enough on his own, he thinks even if nothing comes out of this sudden revelation, he could teach George that he could love just as soft as he could love fiercely. 

"George-" He begins, suddenly feeling all warm in the face and shy himself. 

"I don't want to be fixated on the what ifs later in life. I'll take what I have right now as it comes...until then, there's no one else I trust enough to understand me." George's voice is thick with emotion. Ringo is hesitant to acknowledge what it means, the weight of those words. So he does what he's always wanted to do and takes George's hand, squeezes it in reassurance. Shifting his gaze from their hands back to George's face, who looks at their entwined fingers with wonder in his eyes like the time when he first heard his voice on record. 

"Ye 'ave a tender heart, Ritch," George says calmly, meeting his gaze at last. "Please take care of mine, as I would yours. He feels George's free hand brush against his cheeks, he leans into the touch, places a tender kiss on George's palm, maintaining their eye contact, the fiber of his very being pulsates in need, stoking the fire in his heart into a blazing inferno, to feel and give and take... more. He tips his head, feeling George's sharp intake of breath, and whispers "Silly boy, course I would." before kissing George tenderly.

In their later years, somewhere off the coast of Maldives, George would ask him if he's done everything right. He would think back to the lights of the studio, the question, which he's always known the answer for, John hollering "As quick as the lads from Sunday League ain't cha George?", Paul shushing him, and one of the few times where he flips John the bird without fearing for his safety. 

Just like before, he twines their finger together, admiring their hands now old with age, George is not as pale as he was back then, what with the years spent under the sun tending to the gardens in Friar Park, the matching gold bands on their ring fingers, answering George's question with a kiss.

**Author's Note:**

> Really need me something soft to keep my mind away from the clowns in my country. Not really pleased with this. But this is a part of the process innit? Comments are as usual appreciated!


End file.
